Stepbrother Thief(118)

I hit Cliff's door first, opening it quickly but not dramatically. There's no need to freak anybody out. For all I know, we might be safe tonight. Whatever happened, it could've ended with Aveline. This could just be Gill and his usual careful meticulousness, just him taking extra care with his family. Or not. It's that last part that really freaks me out.

“Papa.” I reach out and grab his shoulder, shaking him awake in an instant. Cliff's always been a light sleeper; he used to make it really hard for Gill and me to sneak into each other's rooms way back when. “I need you to get up and come with me.” I force a smile that I'm sure my stepfather can't see. “Gilleon's orders.”

“Is everything okay?” he asks as I move away and head towards Solène's room, opening the door with care. The last thing I want to do right now is scare the crap out of my daughter. I don't bother to answer Cliff as he shuffles in behind me, tucking a blue robe around his pjs as I lean down and swipe some dark hair from Solène's face.

“C'est l'heure de se réveiller, ma jolie petite fille,” I whisper, gesturing at Cliff to close the door behind him. Time to wake up, my pretty little daughter.

“Maman?” she asks on the tail end of a yawn, sitting up and shaking out a headful of disheveled curls. Her pink pajamas are covered in wrinkled ruffles and splattered with bows. Pretty sure she made them herself. “Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?” What's wrong?

I shake my head and shrug my shoulders, like this whole thing is no big deal. At least it's dark enough in here that the sweat beading on my forehead won't show. Shit.

“Everything's fine,” I say, standing up and taking a few steps back as I search the ceiling for the attic door. I can feel Cliff's gaze on me, as powerful and intense as his son's. “You know how they make you do fire drills in school?” I ask as I find the pull and reach up, curling my fingers around the string.

“Oui.” Solène yawns again. “But they're never in the middle of the night like this.” I yank hard and the catch comes loose, exposing a wooden ladder that I tug down to the floor, trying to be as quiet and gentle as possible. If there is something happening downstairs, I'd rather not alert whoever might be down there to our presence.

“Cliff, would you be so kind as to lock the door?” I stand up and move over to the French doors that lead out onto the balcony, checking to make sure they, too, are locked up tight. The windows are next.

“Maman?” Solène asks again, standing up and giving the ladder a wary look. Cool air drifts down from the open space, reminding me to grab a blanket and a stack of Solène's drawing books so she'll have something to do. I toss a pillow to Cliff, ignoring his pointed stare. He knows better than to push though; we both do.

“Come on, honey. Let's get upstairs and then we'll talk about it.” I keep smiling. Inside, I might be screaming. But just a little bit.

I help Solène up the rungs first and then gesture for Cliff to go next.

“Is Gilleon okay?” Cliff asks as I hand him my cell phone. I hope so, I think, and then my heart starts to flutter with panic. He better be. I still can't get the image of Aveline's bloody body and swollen face out of my head. Instead of answering Cliff's question, I swallow hard and repeat Gill's instructions—minus the Aveline part. Obviously, she's already here.

A chill trickles down my spine, cold as ice.

“Call Ewan. His number's in my contacts. And if Gill isn't up here in ten minutes or less, call the police.”

“You're not coming?” he asks, his graying brows raised in disbelief. With the moonlight streaming in through the window, his hair looks almost completely white. This is my fault. I should never have put them through this. I should've gone with Gill and left Cliff and Solène behind. Gill's right though, I suppose—love is selfish.

“Papa, I'll be right behind you; I just need to grab something,” I say, urging him up and glancing at the door for emphasis. “Go. Solène needs you.”

Cliff makes a noise of frustration but follows my instructions, reaching down to take the blanket and the books. All the while, he's shaking his head at me.

“Don't do anything reckless, Regina,” he adds, peering down at me with narrowed eyes. If he could, I bet Papa would wrestle me up this ladder. But he can't. We both know that.

When I bend down and grab the bottom rung of the ladder, we all hear it: the doorbell ringing.

Good sign or bad?

“Regina?” I glance at the bedroom door again. This whole situation … it could be nothing. But it could be everything. For the same reasons I told Gill not to leave tonight, not to go to Karl, I make the decision not to go up the ladder. I can't lose him. And I can't leave him, not when I have no idea what's going on.